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A year ago this week my beautiful cat Sid Vicious died suddenly for no apparent reason. He was only ten years old. I trapped him as a kitten and tamed him. When he was small he used to get into all kinds of messy stuff--rats, mice, roaches, and once, he put a live baby possum in our bedroom. He was a hunter. After these events I always gave him a flea bath, which he hated.
Later he became fascinated with water and would wait on the bathroom counter by the sink for me to come and rub water on his head. If he knew I would be up at 6am, he'd be there at 5am. He also wanted to drink from he tap.
He died on the spot where he usually jumped up, with his head toward the counter.
His brother cat, whose name is "Little Puss," because he weighs 20 pounds, was his best friend. They would tear the fur out of each other one minute, and the next be standing shoulder to shoulder on the lawn. If you saw one, the other was surely no further away than ten feet.
Little is no hunter. I once saw him standing on the tail of a mouse and he was still looking for it! He is a big talker though. If he's been outside for more than five minutes he comes in the house yelling "I WENT OUTSIDE, I WENT OUTSIDE, ITS ME, I CAME BACK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???, IS THAT FOOD???, CAN I EAT THAT???. If I'm downstairs on the computer invariably he comes thundering down the stairs like a loose cannonball, bursts into the room yelling about his adventures outside "I WAS OUTSIDE, DID YOU MISS ME, I'M BACK, I'M DOWN HERE, PET THE CAT OR I'LL STOMP ON YOUR CLICKY-CLICKY THING THAT YOU LOVE MORE THAN ME, HEY, CAN YOU HEEEAAAAR MEEEEE???."
But this time that didn't happen.
There was the thunder of a loose cannonball, then silence. I was busy on the computer and didn't notice at first, then the silence sunk in. Something odd. I'll go check. The other bedroom door didn't bang open like it does when he goes in there, so I knew he hadn't gone that way. I looked in the bathroom. He was crouched beside the tub. I think, "I've never seen him hang out in the bathroom unless someone was in there." He offered a whispered "meow." Also odd. He looked to his left. I walked past him, all the way into the bathroom. There, on the exact spot where Sid had died, was a dead bird. The first thing Little has ever caught.
R.I.P. Sid, I love you, I miss you, and you brother sends you a gift.
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